All thoughts of trying to perform fled as I heard that name escape Kyle's lips. The moment he was done with me, I shuffled away from him, scrabbling for my boxers.
He puts his head in his hands as I get dressed. Y'know I'd thought that feeling used before was irrational, but I'm not so sure now. I really need to learn how to say ‘no' when I'm not in the fucking mood.
"Damien, I'm sorry," he says, but I don't reply, making my way up to my room. I lock the door behind me and curl up on my bed, contemplating climbing out the window and going somewhere. I dunno where. Just somewhere. "Damien, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it," Kyle's voice distracts me. He knocks on the door, but I ignore him.
"Please, just hear me out."
"What is there to hear out, Kyle?"
"I didn't mean it, gorgeous." I don't say anything, too busy slipping on my shoes and opening the window to really care about replying. He groans. "Damien." I shift onto the branch outside my window, balancing as best I can. Dad cut it back the other day to try and stop me getting out, but didn't cut it back far enough. Only thing is, I can't reach my window all that well. I slip while I'm closing it and it slams, kind of giving away that I've gotten out.
Whatever. I climb down and wander aimlessly until I find myself outside some dodgy bar. I vaguely remember it. I don't know why, but as I walk inside, it all feels kinda familiar. I shrug it off and go sit at the bar, ordering a couple shots of whatever's cheapest.
I've already had a couple by the time Kyle finds me, and I down another as he walks over to me.
"Damien, I'm sorry." You're repeating yourself, honey. I ignore him, and order a beer. He sighs and gets a drink for himself. "Let me make it up to you." Go on then. Tell me how you can make it up to me. "Whatever it'll take to make it up to you, I'll do it. I can't lose you, Damien."
"I'm feeling used, and pretty cheap right now, Kyle. I'd rather get drunk and hit by a car again than try and think of something for you to try and make it up to me." He bites his lip and I down my beer. He looks at the floor. "Scratch that. I wanna be high." I look around, trying to see if I recognise anyone in here that might know where a dealer is.
"Don't," he says. I brush it off, still looking around. "Don't," he repeats himself, a little louder this time. I heard you the first time darling.
"Why not? I'm sick of trying to get clean."
"Fine," he says trying to hide a disappointed look.
"I never wanted to get clean. I was quite happy destroying myself. It's everyone else trying to make me get clean. I've had enough of it." I don't wait for a reply before storming off outside. I've fucking had enough of people telling me what to do, how to waste my life, that I'm wrong and abnormal. This place is driving me insane and not even being with Kyle is helping anymore.
"Call me if I ever meant anything," he says quietly behind me, making me jump. He's gone before I can even think of what to say to him.
I walk over to the park, suddenly realising I don't have the money to buy drugs anyways, no matter how much I want them right now. I sit down on a bench, feeling kinda shitty and sorry for myself. I have no doubt I'll call him later, but right now, I can barely even think about moving.
I just stay where I am until dad comes looking for me.